The Lost Shepard
by bigjake90
Summary: Kidnapped of Mindoir by batarian slavers, Marcus Shepard became science experiment for a psychopath with unlimited resources. After years of torment and modifications, he eventually uses his gifts to escape and fight for his freedom. After months on the run, he saved by someone he thought long dead. A story of reunion, pain, and fighting for survival
1. Reunion

**Author's Note:  
><strong>**Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic that I've ever actually had the guts to post for readers! Writing is a passion of mine and I have finally put it out there for others to love/hate. Feedback is something that I have always appreciated, both good and bad, so please, COMMENT AWAY! As long as it is constructive, I will always listen and try to keep readers entertained! Don't be shy with criticism, I'm a big boy who can handle the hard truth, as long as it's helpful! So, without further ado, here is The Lost Shepard!**

Marcus woke up to the sound of someone busting through his bedroom door. Instinctively, he activated his biotics and threw a singularity in their direction. As he shook the cobwebs from his head, he saw two extremely surprised Krogan floating in the air trying to fish for their shotguns on the floor. Scowling, Marcus pulled out his own Claymore and shot each one in the face. Damn, he'd almost gotten used to this location. He'd gone a full month before they'd discovered him this time. He knew it'd been stupid to stay in one spot so long. Desperate to get the hell out of dodge, he slung his always packed bag on his back, busted out his street side window and threw his massive frame out into the street. His biotic field broke his fall as he hit the ground fifty feet below and he hit the ground running. He'd planned a scenario like this before and knew exactly where to run. He heard the mercs chasing him screaming at each other to get after him, but he was already a football field of them before they finally gave chase. He knew if his past ever came after him themselves he'd be a whole new level of fucked, but thankfully he stayed in enough crowded areas for them to keep sending hapless mercs after him. He'd had a few run-ins with the more popular groups like the Blue Suns and Blood Pack, but these seemed to be a local group consisting of humans, krogan, turians, and even about a dozen asari commandos by the sound of the female voices. This was going to be very interesting.

Weaving in and out of the crowded streets, Marcus finally got to his destination: a packed warehouse with plenty of cover and, he felt ashamed to admit, lots of civilians to provide a distraction when the posse finally arrived. He didn't want to risk any innocents, but he refused to head back to the labs. He was done being a test rat. He sprinted to the back of the building, drawing a confused stare from the salarians working the assembly line, and set up to the best of his ability. He didn't have a lot of ammo, only enough thermal clips to reload each weapon a max of twice. He thought about putting all of them towards his assault rifle, but that would do him no good in either long range or up close and personal situations. More than anything, he was royally pissed at himself for not bringing more food; he was going to need his biotics, but those were going to run out fast without calories, especially with those asari chicks. He needed to end them first, no prisoners and no mercy today.

The krogan busted through first guns blazing. Marcus cringed as he saw a couple poor bastards get blown apart by a blast, but he didn't have an opportunity to feel guilty. He lined his scope up and fired.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Four shots, four dead mercs. He couldn't help but smile as he painted their brains against the wall, but felt a sense of dread as he reloaded. He got the final two krogans, but the other two were human. He'd hoped to pop a couple asari, but the bitches held back and let the idiots get popped first. Oh well, time to let them know what they were dealing with. Without warning, he jumped to his feet and sent a Reave straight at them, catching six of the commandos. Once their barriers were down, he took them out with a series of torso/headshot combos, making sure they stayed down. He dropped again to reload his M-96 Mattock; he loved the stopping power that the gun provided, but the fucking magazine capacity annoyed the shit out of him. He made a mental note to work on fixing that issue if he got the time and resources. He was shaken from his thoughts when he heard the mercs screaming and firing at something, but for once it wasn't him they were shooting at. He looked behind his cover and saw the majority of the mercs facing back at the door, firing at a trio of fighters: a Turian with a sniper rifle, a massive krogan, and a human biotic. The three of them easily tore through the human and turian mercs, leaving him with the last six commandos. Grateful for the help, Marcus dashed from his spot and caught the screaming asari in a singularity field, then unleashed all his anger and stress into one massive Slam attack. He tried not to enjoy the sickening crunch they made as they hit the ground.

Marcus turned around, casually drawing his M-3 Predator heavy pistol, to see the new team slowly making their way towards him with weapons drawn but pointed at the ground. Smart move, he couldn't help but think, always treat new contact like hostile contact. He couldn't see the man's, for he certainly was a human male, face behind his breather helmet, but the krogan and turian both looked battle-hardened, like they were bred for nothing else. He certainly hoped they were friendlies; he didn't like the idea of killing people who saved his life. He kept his gun ready, waiting for one of them to make the first move. The human, obviously the one in charge, obliged him.

"I gotta say, you certainly know how to draw a crowd for just one man." Marcus smirked at that; he always appreciated a smartass sense of humor to relieve tension.

"Who said I was just an ordinary man?" he challenged, hoping that his reputation preceded him if these were more hired guns. He thought it weird that they didn't fly any specific colors or crest, especially the turian. He had the look of either military or C-SEC training, and that massive scar on his face certainly didn't look like it came from a bar fight. No, that one had seen some shit. The krogan looked fairly new to combat, but he certainly made up for it with enthusiasm. He had this look about him, like this was his entire purpose: combat, war, battle. The human, strangely enough, was wearing the Alliance N7 special ops unit armor, but was packing WAY too much high tech heat to be backed by those cheap bastards.

"Anyone who can toss around six Vanguards at once obviously isn't normal, so I'm gonna have to say, as impressed as I am, you'll have to forgive us for not putting our guns down unless you do." Marcus hesitated at the tone this guy used. Here he was, rivaling even the krogan in height, and this dude was trying to intimidate him!

"I gotta admit, hoss, you got stones. I'll make you a deal, gimme a name and I'll put down my gun. Fair enough?"

The turian tensed before offering his opinion,

"Not a good call, Shepard…" Marcus didn't hear the rest of what his gravelly voice said, too shocked and trying to process what he heard. Shepard….impossible, absolutely no way. Was it really him?

"Shepard? John Shepard, Alliance Navy?" He audibly swallowed as the man slowly turned his head back to face him. Slowly and deliberately, as to not set off the giant in front of him, he holstered his gun and unlatched his helmet, pulling it off and resting it under his arm. Marcus couldn't believe it. That was a face he hadn't seen in years, a face he never thought he'd see again.

A face he thought was dead…

"Yea, I'm Commander John Shepard. Who the hell are you?" Marcus couldn't speak, couldn't get the answer he so wanted past his throat. He barely got out a question in return.

"Johnny?" Shepard uneasily stepped forward to the massive human, who looked weak at the knees and actually lost the grip on his pistol, dropping it clumsily to the ground. Marcus dropped to his knees, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, never taking them off the ghost in front of him. Shepard looked hard into the big man's face, past the beard and wild hair, past the anger, straight into his eyes. They seemed so familiar to him, like a ghost of a memory trying to come back to life. He shakily reached out and rested his hand on the massive shoulder of the kneeling man.

"Who are you? What's your name?"

"My name…is Marcus Shepard, son of James and Mila Shepard." John stood speechless, shocked and unable to believe what he had heard. This was impossible; he hadn't heard those names in over a decade, filing them away in his subconscious with everything else that hurt. But here he was, now that he really looked at him. This mountain of a killing machine was one of three people he believed that he would never see again. It was clear as day in his features, those young, blue eyes, that strong chin, hell even the nickname he called him.

"M-Marcus? You're alive?" Unable to contain himself anymore, Marcus dropped his massive head against his brother and wrapped his arms around him in a hug, the first sentimental contact he'd had in eleven years. He tried to hold it in, but he couldn't help the tears that ran down his face. He felt John return the embrace and could tell from the way his body was shaking that he was crying too. Marcus released the commander and got back to his feet, wanting to see his face again. He couldn't help but laugh as they stood there like a couple of idiots unable to speak. The krogan finally broke what had to be an uncomfortable silence.

"Shepard, who is this pyjak?" Shepard started to answer, but couldn't help but laugh for a second at this turn of events, the last thing he had ever thought to happen in his lifetime.

"Marcus, allow me to introduce you to a couple members of my team. The turian is Garrus Vakarian. The krogan with an affinity for insults is Grunt. Gentlemen, this is Marcus. He's my brother."


	2. Meeting the Team

Marcus sat in John's cabin while his older brother was in the War Room prepping his team for this big revelation. The massive human was in shock, having no idea how to handle this situation. The only human contact he'd had over the past decade had been nothing but experiments and torture; he had no idea how to interact socially with people, especially soldiers. He couldn't help but chuckle at that train of thought. Here he was, a genetic freak who'd escaped custody from the monsters that "created" him, brother of the commander of the ship he was currently traveling on, with hundreds of kills under his belt, and he was terrified of talking to people. Truthfully, he didn't want to deal with everyone's questions or judgement; he wanted a hot meal, a cold beer, and somewhere to crash, not necessarily in that order. He knew he had to put on a good show for his brother though, and he had to admit that a miniscule part of him was excited that his brother wanted to show him off. Actually, fuck that; he was just excited that he was with his brother. He had tried to look him up when he first escaped, hoping he could help him escape his pursuers. He had been devastated when he saw his record: Commander John Shepard, Alliance Navy, Systems Alliance N7 Special Forces service no. 5923-AC-2826, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, DOB: 04-11-2154, Status: Deceased, 6-25-2183. He hadn't seen his brother in over a decade, and it still punched him right in the chest when he saw that death date. He'd always thought his big brother was invincible, especially as he read about his exploits. With a battle history like his, who wouldn't think the man couldn't die? He'd accepted it though, chocking it up to another way life gave him a massive middle finger, but here he was. John had given him an omni-tool upon his arrival, and Marcus kept his thoughts away from his introduction to the crew by toying with it for the past hour, learning almost everything possible about it in a short time. As much as he hated the people who had fucked with his existence for the past eight years, he'd come to rely on the gifts they had given him. He had survived with his enhanced biotics, his enhanced strength, his massive size, and especially that krogan regeneration they'd put in his DNA. He wasn't the boy he'd been when he was stolen from his world. Hell, he didn't even know if he constituted as human anymore. He didn't know what to tell John, but at least his brother had seen him in action, so he obviously knew something was up. His omni-tool lighting up shook him from his thoughts; John spoke through the vid screen and told him they were ready to meet him. He simply nodded his confirmation, scared his voice would betray him if he spoke up.

Marcus trotted down the stairs, opting away from the elevator to give himself more time to compose himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Before he could come up with a satisfying answer, he found himself at the door, which, in humanity's brilliant way to remove time to gather one's thoughts, opened automatically to reveal the crew. He didn't have to duck to get through the door, but it was close enough to make him note that boots were a bad idea in the future. He took his place by his brother, not a small man himself but easily half a foot shorter than his 6'10" frame. As he scanned the room, he was taken aback at the variety of species in front of him. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help surveying each individual as if they were a threat and all the proper ways to take them down.

The first ones he laid eyes on were the two humans standing together to his left: one African-American male, one Caucasian woman; Male, 6'1", approx. 225 lbs, carries himself with pride, obviously former, if not current, military, substantial physical training, lack of weapon on person while on ship suggests biotics, also assesses myself as threat, conclusion: possible threat, need further analysis; female, 5'8", approx. 145 lbs, also carries no weapon, suggesting biotics, also has athletic build, yet seems much more at ease at my arrival, eyes constantly darting between me and John, arms crossed suggests need to assert authority, possible self-confidence issues, yet seems to trust John's decision making, conclusion: possible threat from biotics, but highly unlikely due to fraternal relationship to CO.

After he finished with them, he scanned the krogan, Grunt, who helped rescue him; krogan, male, 7'1", approx. 1100-1300 lbs, fully grown yet attitude and obedience suggests adolescence, possibly genetically altered like myself, smells and looks like normal krogan yet superior in every way, obvious affinity for violence, yet seems controlled to this point by John, despite young age, seems to have seen numerous significant battles (note: John gets into big fights, journey should be quite enjoyable), conclusion: obvious physical threat, yet also lab rat, possible ally.

He scanned each and every one of the crew in similar ways, seeing threats from all of them (except the fidgety, yet adorable quarian), but not seeing them as enemies. John wouldn't have them on board if they were untrustworthy. He thought Garrus, the turian who helped John and Grunt, was definitely the most reliable of the bunch, the tattooed biotic was the x-factor that could go either way, the drell and mercenary were the most seasoned warriors, the quarian was the most inexperienced (hopefully she wouldn't be corrupted by this lot), the thief was, in her own way, one of the most dangerous, the asari matriarch (no way a maiden or matron has those curves) was the most powerful, and the eccentric salarian was the most intelligent. In the roughly ten seconds it took him to make all of these observations, John began his introductions.

"Everyone, this is who I was talking about. Now, I know you know all the details of how and where we crossed paths with our massive friend, but I believe that it would be beneficial if he introduced himself. Marcus, the floor is yours." At his brother's behest, Marcus stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"My name is Marcus Shepard, son of James and Mila Shepard, brother of Commander John Shepard." Not sure what else to say, he stepped back by his brother's side as he let his words sink in. The two biotics in matching armor began excitedly whispering to themselves, his enhanced hearing picking up their confusion at this information slipping past their records. Garrus and Grunt obviously knew this information already, so they just relaxed and let everyone else freak out. The tattooed one looked at him almost hungrily, unsettling him just the slightest bit. The asari simply nodded to him with a small smile, as if simply taking this in as another normal introduction instead of a major development. The drell betrayed no emotion, making Marcus add the possibility of him being one of the famous assassins the hanar created. The mercenary chuckled and offered a simple, "well I'll be damned" before lighting a cigar (note: mercenary has cigars, definite ally). The quarian had the most unexpected reaction; she ran around the (unnecessary and overly-dramatic) table, blew past everyone else, and wrapped his gargantuan frame in a hug, squealing,

"Any family of Shepard's is my family too."

Instinctively, Marcus flared his biotics, ready for a fight at the physical contact, and everyone, including the now worried quarian, froze. The next few seconds were tense for everyone, until finally the glow surrounding Marcus faded, his arms slowly surrounded the quarian, and he returned the hug gently. She felt so tiny against his massive frame he was scared he would crush her, but as soon as she felt him wrap her up as well, she squeezed even tighter and gave a satisfied, as well as relieved, sigh. Marcus felt tears begin to fall from his face, and hated himself for looking weak in front of his new teammates, but the asari surprised him when she came and rested her hand softly on his shoulder.

"What's the matter young one? Why do you cry?" He made eye contact with her, entranced by her loving stare from her beautiful blue eyes. Before he could throw his guard back up and stop himself, he answered,

"This is the second time in the past eleven years that I've been touched and it hasn't hurt." He could feel the shock in everyone's, even Grunt's, stare as he continued to hug the quarian. Once she heard his admission, the asari slipped in beside her and hugged him as well, bringing forth a renewed flow of tears. For the first time in over a decade, Marcus Shepard actually felt cared for.

"Here ya go Marcus. I know it's not much, but honestly the only place that I could fit you that wasn't occupied was here." John couldn't help but feel bad at the shoddy set up he was forced to give his brother, but after Marcus had refused to stay in the captain's cabin with him, he had no choice. Still, there was no denying the look of pure joy as Marcus made his way through the shuttle bay. He hadn't had an actual room since Mindoir and definitely not one this big. Marcus saw where his older brother had taken the liberty of setting his bag, but also noticed all of his other belongings there as well. He turned back to his brother for an explanation, and Shepard smirked as he leaned against the wall.

"What, you thought it was gonna be hard to find a close hotel torn to shreds by a firefight?" Marcus practically ran over to his new area in excitement. It was simple, but it was still nice and organized. He laughed at the makeshift bed they made him, pushing two cots together with a third at the bottom horizontally to give him an almost two feet extra, an addition he was grateful for. Someone had even thrown a makeshift mattress down for him. It wasn't much, but it was certainly nicer than anything he was used to. He saw his footlocker, already holding the few changes of clothes he carried with him; more accurately, he saw his last name. Shepard. It'd been so long since anyone recognized him by that name he'd almost forgotten it a couple times. Now, it was everywhere he went, all because he was the commander's brother. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at that: his brother had his own ship! He shut the footlocker and turned to his arms locker, his gaze not having the same pride it normally did. He was always extremely proud of his little arsenal, but seeing the firepower that his brother and the crew were rocking almost gave him a bit of a complex. Must be nice getting what you need when you need it. Still, he was happy he wasn't defenseless from a firearm standpoint.

Marcus was pulled from his giddiness when he heard his brother's soft laugh. It didn't contain any malice or amusement, more like understanding. John had been in these shoes before, given more than he'd ever come to expect. Marcus turned and smiled to his brother, beckoning him into the small tented area to have a seat. John obliged and sat down on a crate that helped make up a part of the wall while Marcus sat on his bed. They spent the next few hours, well into the early morning, catching up and enjoying each other's company. Marcus had always looked at his brother with almost reverence, but John made sure to always treat him as an equal. Now, being the only family they each had left, they refused to let work or duty get in between them. After all the stories John told about his enlistment, joining the N7 Program, becoming the first human SPECTRE, defeating Saren, the geth, and finally Sovereign, and finally dying and resurrecting, he looked at his younger brother with anxious eyes.

"OK buddy, your turn. What in God's name happened to you?" Marcus' happiness began to wane as he remembered the torture he went through. He'd spent so much time building walls around himself he didn't know how to answer his brother. With a deep, shaky breath, he began from the beginning, all the way to Mindoir.


	3. Memories

_James and Mila were screaming at him to run, his dad firing an M-8 Avenger at the advancing batarians and his mother trying to tear them apart with her biotics. He tried to move, but he was paralyzed with fear. He watched with horror as his mother went first, taking a bullet right above her right eye that exited the back of her head, covering her ten year old son in blood and brain matter. His father screamed incoherently as he fired back, taking two of the slavers down, but he too was claimed by a spray of gunfire, taking over a dozen rounds in the torso before he dropped. Marcus stayed on the floor, shaking and crying as the four-eyed monsters circled him, before one of them hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle._

_The first thing he realized when he awoke was the presence of shackles and a slave collar around his tiny neck, his head throbbing. He squealed as he felt a rough hand pull him out of the cage he was in and drug him through a hallway kicking and screaming. A quick slap across the cheek put an end to that. He looked up as they walked through a door, bringing him face to face with a cruel looking man with blue eyes and graying hair._

_"Here you go Mr. Lawson. This is the only brat we caught with biotics in his bloodlines, his mother shredded some of my own men personally."_

_"Excellent. I will have your payment transferred immediately and we shall conclude our business for today." Marcus felt something pinch him on the back of the neck, and his world went black again._

_Pain. Lots of pain from every inch of his body. Marcus fought against the straps holding him down, trying to break free. "Stop fighting boy, I am uplifting your miserable existence. You should be grateful." That voice, the voice that bought him a year ago. Lawson. Anger drowns out pain. Blue light appears. The voice seems surprised but excited. "Excellent! He is advancing much faster than we could have ever anticipated! Continue, do not stop unless he goes into cardiac arrest." More pain, pushing anger back once more. Tears fall down his cheeks, pleading for relief. Death, life, death, life._

_-__**Day 1,460 (4 earth years)**__-_

_Marcus tore through the test mechs that were thrown at him, his biotics overwhelming them in seconds. He felt power flowing through his veins, burning like a wildfire through every inch of his existence. Again and again he destroyed the lifeless beings. Once he was finished, he heard the Voice again, "Excellent work Subject 451." Marcus turned to the source, a mirror. He knew they were behind there, and he knew he had the power to hurt them now. He felt a smile, the first in almost four years, cross his face as he roared,_

_"MY NAME IS MARCUS SHEPARD!"_

_Marcus sprinted to the mirror and brought his biotic powered fists down with full force. He felt the glass crack, but was shocked when it held. The Voice came back, angry this time, "Now we can't have that." Before the last word came out, Marcus smelled the ozone, heard the crackle of electricity. Then, pain. Unimaginable, awful pain. He crumbled to the ground, assuming the fetal position as he felt his body trying to tear itself apart. Finally, after an eternity, the pain stopped. "We'll try once more tomorrow," the Voice said, then silence once more. Marcus felt his anger rise again. They could try all they want, they would not break him. He had been here 1,460 days, and he would stand strong once more. He would survive._

**_Day 2,388 (6.5 earth years)_**

_Strapped down again, yet no pain this time. Voices, without the Voice, surround him. His eyes dart around, trying to see where he is. Grogginess, probably drugged. He called his biotics. PAIN, the worst yet. Screams, couldn't stop himself. Shame at showing weakness. Laughter surrounds him, and the Voice speaks, "Now, now subject 451; we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself before we alter your DNA." Alter my?-PAIN, PAIN EVERYWHERE, SCREAMING, TORTURE…darkness, death…rebirth….death….rebirth._

**_Day 2,596 (7.1 earth years)_**

_Marcus couldn't stop the pathetic whimper from escaping his lips as he felt himself wake up in shackles. He'd been caught again. He was so close this time, but they'd tranquilized him right as he hit the shuttle bay. It had to have been a damn good one too; his krogan regeneration hadn't worked until now. They must have hit him with something that could down a thresher maw. The Voice spoke to him again, "Subject 451, I must say that you have quite thoroughly irked me with this escape attempt. Normally I find them humorous, but when you kill over twenty of my loyal men, the jokes have officially ended. I will break you boy. In fact, I already have; you just don't know it yet." _

_"Go fuck yourself old man. If you haven't broken me yet, you won't anytime soon," Marcus responded as defiantly as he could, though there was no denying the tremor behind his words. He thought he heard the voice chuckle, unsettling him even more._

_THWACK! Marcus bit down as hard as he could as he felt the whip come down on his back. This was the fifth whipping he'd received for escape attempts, and he never once got used to the pain. He refused to scream this time, letting his rage at the Voice, the one man who's name he'd remembered for 7 years, numb his suffering._

_THWACK!_

_Lawson_

_THWACK!_

_Lawson_

_THWACK!_

_Lawson…_

**_Day 3,652 (10 earth years)_**

_Subject 451 lay huddled in the corner of his tiny cell, stoically staring at space when the men came through the door. He didn't make a move when they grabbed him, getting the massive young male to his feet. The Voice, Henry Lawson, walked in behind them with a small group of guards, roughly a dozen, but he knew his little prodigy wouldn't dare harm them. Like he had said almost three years ago, he had broken the boy, he just didn't know it yet._

_"Subject 451, I must say that, while trying at times, your tenure here has been most extraordinary indeed. You have become the unstoppable warrior I always knew you would. You have mastered every hand-to-hand combat skill known to humanity, krogan, and turians alike, your biotics are stronger than any individual in recorded history, and your skill with all matter of weapons would put any SPECTRE to utter shame. You have grown, physically and metaphorically, so much in these past years, and I must say that I am extremely proud of you son." Henry Lawson beamed with pride at what would be yet another beginning of his perfect legacy. He turned to walk away when Subject 451 suddenly spoke._

_"My….My Name…." Terror gripped Lawson as he slowly turned to the mountain of a man surrounded by armed guards. That's impossible. He'd won; he'd broken the spirit of the boy. This was not possible!_

_"MY….NAME….IS…..MARCUS SHEPARD!" With all the strength he had in his body, Marcus unleashed a massive biotic throw, tossing the fourteen guards and one man in his cell against the walls with unbelievable force. He sprinted out the open door to hear the Voice behind him screaming, "STOP HIM!" Marcus knew they couldn't. There was nothing in these walls that he couldn't kill or tear down. He was leaving, today._

John listened to the story in complete silence, taking in every small detail. He couldn't believe that one person could take so much pain. He felt a pit in his stomach when he heard the name, Henry Lawson. Miranda was going to have a field day with that. He felt a mixture of feelings when he looked at his brother now: pity, relief, anger, pride, but mostly joy at the fact that he was still alive and now nothing could stop them from being together. Marcus impressed the hell out of him. He had easily risen amongst the toughest, most resilient people John had ever seen. He couldn't help but rise from his crate and wrap his massive baby brother in a hug. Marcus returned in kind, grateful that his brother didn't hate him. He didn't know how John would react to hearing he wasn't normal, that he wasn't fully human, but the sheer force of the hug told him that John didn't care, and that he was just happy to have his little brother back. The two Shepards were snapped from there moment when they heard the sound of someone crying outside the tent. They separated and looked outside to find the entire crew there, listening. Most stood there in shock, but Tali was crying softly as Kasumi held her. Even Zaeed and Garrus, two of the more hardass members of the crew, were struck at how he was treated. Jack knew how it felt to have your childhood torn apart by scientists. Obviously feeling the awkward tension in the room now, Marcus straightened himself up and offered up an idea.

"Hey, I know you probably need me to do a physical evaluation, and you probably wanna test my abilities to see if I'll be an asset. Interested in some sparring guys?"

The entire crew lightened up at the idea, particularly the ones who leaned towards enjoying gratuitous violence. John chuckled, grateful for clearer air and less tension, and took his spot next to his brother.

"Alright Marcus, I wanna test both your biotics and your hand to hand combat. On the biotics side, we have Miranda, Jacob, Jack, Samara, and I. On the hand to hand combat side, we have Jacob, Garrus, Grunt, Zaeed, and I. Thane doesn't count for either with his condition, I want him ready to go for the collectors. Who would you like to go against?" Marcus smirked, the confidence of youth goading him into impressing his older brother.

"Who are your three best at each, aside from you obviously? I won't fight family." John returned the smirk, thinking he knew what his brother was up to. He motioned up Samara, Jack, and Miranda from the biotics side, then pulled Grunt, Garrus and Jacob from the combat side.

"These are without question the best biotics and best fighters on my team. Who do you want to fight?"

"I'll make it simple…All of them."


	4. Sparring Session

John watched from the observation window above the shuttle bay as his people got ready to spar. He knew from personal experience that his brother was a formidable warrior, but he also knew how dangerous his crew was. Zaeed took a spot to his right, silently staring as the two three-man teams prepped and Marcus paced like a caged tiger.

"Fifty on the boy," Zaeed said with a grin; the man loved long odds and a good bet.

"Make it a hundred and you got a bet," Kasumi retorted, uncloaking to Shepard's left. He felt Tali come up behind him, obviously not feeling the same level of confidence as her companions.

"Are you sure about this Shepard? We don't know how strong he is, no matter what happened to him."

"Don't worry, it's just sparring. Besides, I have a feeling were about to be in for a treat."

**-IN THE SHUTTLE BAY-**

Marcus paced and loosened up, eager for the chance to show off his skills and blow off some steam. He looked at the two groups he was about to fight. The fighters were huddled together, obviously coming up with a battle plan to use their respective talents to take him down efficiently. He didn't bother using his enhanced senses to try and listen in; he didn't need to cheat to win. The biotics didn't seem to be communicating at all, and he could sense some tension between the two humans. The brunette smelled familiar, but he couldn't place where the scent. The tattooed one simply stared at him, like she was sizing him up for more than just a fight. The asari sat and meditated, glowing blue with biotic energy. He turned his back to them and peeled off his t-shirt, not wanting to ruin one of his only shirts. The wolf whistles coming from the women were something he hadn't quite expected, but they didn't go unappreciated.

The first match was hand-to-hand. Marcus stood in the center of the makeshift ring as the trio surrounded him, and opened up with some nonchalant banter.

"Before we get started, I believe some introductions are in order. Seeing as, despite what happens here, I will be serving with you gentlemen, I'd at least like to know the names of the men who's asses I'm about to kick." Grunt, in his own way, obliged him.

"Ha! Check out the quad on this one! You know me and Garrus boy. The human is Jacob Taylor. Now let's see if you can back up that big talk!" and with that, the massive krogan charged. Not to be outdone, Marcus took off at a run and met him head on. The two collided at full steam and, to everyone's shock, Marcus drove Grunt back a few steps. The two struggled for a few seconds before the massive human brought a fierce uppercut to Grunt's meaty jaw. As he stumbled back, both Jacob and Garrus danced in to take his place, and thus the exchange began. Garrus, Jacob, and Grunt were all brilliant fighters and landed more than a few solid hits and kicks, but Marcus was a machine, dodging and countering the vast majority of their attacks and returning with his own. Before long, all four were bruised and bloody before Marcus finally floored Jacob, caught Garrus with a roundhouse, and tackled Grunt with so much force he picked his massive frame off the ground before slamming him to the ground. Shepard called an end to it, seeing more than enough. Marcus picked his teammates off the ground and slapped them each on the back good-naturedly, sharing a few laughs as they nursed their wounds. Marcus walked back to the ring, waiting for the biotics.

They slowly and deliberately encircled him, much more cautious than the brawlers. He couldn't help but notice the incredible figures surrounding him, but he felt this was another tactic of the women, trying to draw his focus. The asari spoke up, offering their introductions.

"I must say young one, you are an honorable and formidable opponent, one that I look forward to dueling. My name is Samara, and I am an asari justicar." After Samara's show of respect, which he answered with a bow of his own, the tattooed one spoke,

"You can call me Jack. I gotta say, hotshot, if your body is made for more than fighting, you need to come visit and let me take it for a test ride sometime," winking to stress the point. Even at twenty-one years old, Marcus blushed like an awkward teenager, drawing a giggle from Jack. Finally, the other human spoke as she circled.

"Marcus, my name is Miranda Lawson, Shepard's XO and…"

"What...What did you just say?" Marcus snapped. He hadn't heard that name in over a year, but it still enraged him to his core. Before Miranda could answer, he flared his biotics and started towards her. Before he let the rage blind him, he heard his brother over the intercom.

"Stand down Marcus, she has every reason to hate the man as much as you do. Calm down and I will let her tell you her own horror stories about Henry Lawson." Marcus didn't take his eyes off her one second, impressed that she refused to break his gaze as well. He could see her understanding, her pity, hell even her pain. He bowed lowest to her and offered his apologies,

"Forgive, Ms. Lawson, though I will be taking up that offer to hear your story. Forget this little incident, and I'll forget the fact that you're sleeping with my brother." He knew he'd struck gold with that comment as she turned ghost white.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Please Miranda, don't insult my intelligence. Of all the women on this ship, you were the only one who looked me strictly in the eyes instead of literally every inch of my body like the rest of the team. That leaves us with a few options: one, you're gay. If that's true, more power too ya, but I think the looks you give my brother, particularly his ass, rule that option out. Two, you find me repulsive, which may very well be true, though Jack's catcalls and the other ladies' ogling makes me doubt. That leaves option three, you're already rutting with someone on this ship. Now, you are obviously a woman who is used to being in charge and giving orders, so the only person who would present a challenge to you is someone you couldn't order around, someone who would take charge for a change, someone like, oh I don't know, the **commander of this ship**. By the rapidly increasing blush on your cheeks, Detective Marcus is gonna choose option three."

Miranda was struck speechless, a position she could honestly say she had never been in before. Even if she could have formed a coherent retort to Marcus' assumptions, no matter how true, she would have been drowned out by Jack's laughter. Jacob couldn't believe his ears, Garrus chuckled at the young man's perceptiveness, audacity, and his innate ability to melt the "Ice Queen" in under a minute. Up in the observation deck, Zaeed grumbled as he handed over a stack of credits to a cackling Kasumi, Shepard shook his head, which had turned its own impressive shade of crimson, and Tali nervously twisted her hands like she always did when she was busted. After a moment of hilarious uncertainty, John finally composed himself and came over the intercom.

"Alright Marcus, if you're done making my crew an awkward mess let's get back to the combat!"

The massive warrior allowed himself one final chuckle before widening his stance and flaring his biotics. As the women moved all around him, he did his best to keep them in front of him to maintain a line of sight, but he quickly realized this was futile. No matter what he did they would eventually encircle him, so he decided to let his other senses do the work for him. Jack, to no one's surprise, was the first one to attack, using a biotic charge to close the distance and take him down, but Marcus easily sidestepped her, almost sending the convict crashing into Samara. The Justicar used her centuries of experience to deftly avoid a collision while also never turning her back on her opponent, but this confrontation was between those who didn't need physical contact to hurt each other. Marcus caught her midair with a powerful slam, not enough to hurt her but certainly enough to shake her concentration. He threw his massive body at her, trying to take advantage of her weakened state, only to feel his body stopped cold by a **very **powerful singularity field. He cocked his head, amused by the smug expression that Miranda wore. Before she could do any real damage, he threw a Slam at her, breaking her concentration as she threw up her barrier, effectively releasing the singularity. The massive biotic used the distraction to try and roll to cover, only to be met by another biotic charge from Jack. He went flying across the shuttle bay, smacking into a large stack of ammo crates. He felt his ribs break, but this only enraged him as he heard Jack laugh. Without a second thought, he threw one of the boxes at the sound of her laugh, knowing his aim was true by her scream, "FUCK!" before she leaped out of the way. As he forced himself to look up, he noticed her smirk had evolved into more of a snarl. _Oh boy, now it gets interesting. _She charged at him again, trying to hit him with a Warp to subdue him. Thankfully, his regenerative DNA had kicked in and partially healed his ribs; he rolled away from her into cover, trying to let his body finish the healing process. Before he got comfortable, he felt himself being lifted slowly off the floor. _Damn it, how'd I forget the fuckin' Justicar?_ He felt himself being lifted up, thankful that she didn't seem interested in paralyzing his limbs, thinking she had him beat.

"Young one, I have lived for almost a thousand years and I have only fought a handful of warriors with your abilities. You are without a doubt a foe worthy of respect and fear, but-" she found herself interrupted by his low, humorless chuckling. Irritated, she addressed him, "I'm sorry, I fail to see where I became amusing." Marcus looked at her and almost felt guilty for annoying her, like a child admonished by their mother. Jack and Miranda had picked themselves up off the ground and standing next to their comrade. Oh, this was going to be sweet.

"Apologies, madam Justicar, I don't find anything you said amusing. What I find amusing is someone with your combat experience letting your guard down." She looked at him with a puzzled expression, only to be caught with a decent sized shockwave, not enough to put her or the other two down, but enough to cause a stumble. When they looked back, they saw Marcus flying towards the ceiling. As soon as his feet made contact, the massive human made a point to make eye contact with the trio before flying to the floor at full biotics-enhanced speed. When he made contact, he released all the energy had gathered while in Samara's grip. The three biotics could do nothing but curse as a massive wall of energy came hurtling at them. Once it hit them, they felt themselves flying backwards at incredible speed. Had they actually hit the walls, their chances of survival would have been slim to none. Thankfully, Marcus caught all three of them in a field of his own, stopping their flight. He brought the three of them within feet of him and gently placed them on the ground. They looked at him in awe; what he just did should have left him exhausted at the very minimum, yet there he stood strong and defiant with a smirk on his face. He reached his hands out, helping them up to their feet before giving each a small bow of respect. Miranda and Samara returned the bow with grace, but Jack answered him the only way she knew how.

"Yep, I'm gonna fuck your brains out junior."


	5. An Interesting Development

**HELLO EVERYONE! Hopefully everyone is still interested at this point! Just wanted to let you know that the majority of this chapter is a smut chapter. It wasn't supposed to be, but I found myself wanting it to be an enjoyable read instead of super cheesy porn. It is my first romance scene, so any tips to make it more enjoyable/less garbage would be greatly appreciated!**

Marcus soaked in the shower in his brother's cabin, wore out from the combat earlier. He'd always enjoyed fighting, but it was a new animal going against people who were close to, if not completely, his equal. That on top of their capabilities as a team had left him exhausted, despite the fact that he'd come out on top. As he enjoyed the pleasant sensation of hot water cascading down his back, he heard the door outside open, announcing his brother's entry. Finishing up rapidly as he could, he snagged the towel outside the shower and wrapped it around his waist. As he exited the restroom, he was surprised to find Miranda accompanying John into the cabin. Immediately feeling awkward, he moved to grab his clothes and leave, only to have his brother stop him.

"Relax big fella. You're among friends now; you don't need to rush off at a moment's notice. Go ahead and get dressed, then meet us on the couch; we've got a hot meal and a bottle of whiskey waiting for you." Relaxing at his brother's words, Marcus nervously smiled at the two before throwing on a t-shirt and set of shorts before joining the two of them. He noticed how comfortable and at ease Miranda looked in the cabin, indicating that she did in fact spend a significant amount of time here. He couldn't stop the thought that this was more than likely her first time actually on the couch, unless-yea he stopped that train of thought right there. Sitting down on the section facing the couple, he blanched as his growling stomach gave away how hungry he truly was. His brother chuckled and pushed a huge plate of earth-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, some spacy looking vegetables covered in melted garlic butter and even a big slice of chocolate cake, his favorite as a kid. Unable to control himself, he dove into the plate ravenously, ignoring Miranda's giggle completely. The next time he looked up, both John and his companion had finished their meals and had started on a glass of whiskey. Pushing his now empty plate away, he grabbed one of his own. After the first sip, he visibly relaxed into his seat, completely at ease for the first time in over a decade. Miranda's voice gently pulled him out of his daze.

"I'm glad you find the whiskey enjoyable, Marcus. It's one of the finest bottles on all of Illium, and cost our benefactor a sizable amount of coin."

"I've never been one for the hard stuff, but if you guys keep this stuff stocked, you're definitely gonna need to find a couple dozen more bottles."

"I'll make sure it stays in the budget," she replied with a small smile, but it faltered as she began again, "Actually, I wanted to speak to you about to my experiences with Henry Lawson, my father." Marcus finished his drink and refilled before letting Miranda continue, "Henry Lawson created me to be the perfect weapon, someone who could infiltrate any organization and either turn it over to his control or take it to the ground without anyone noticing until it was much too late. I was literally grown in a laboratory, my DNA mashed together into the perfect combination. I didn't have a childhood, I had training. I didn't know love, I knew my place. Then, when he found something not to his liking, namely my defiance towards his agenda, he tried to have me "destroyed" like I wasn't even a damn person. Of course, I rather enjoy living, so I used the skills that I have been trained with and I ran. I found sanctuary with Cerberus, particularly catching the eye of the Illusive Man himself. Since I joined, I have become his second in command and was assigned as Shepard's XO here on the Normandy." Marcus sat silently, occasionally taking a sip of his whiskey, while Miranda relayed all this information to him. John, as he always did, sat there and listened, already knowing all these details. As the information processed, he realized that, while not to the extent physically his torture had been, he saw this woman as a kindred spirit of sorts; both had been manipulated in different ways to try and become the perfect creation of a madman with unlimited resources. Still, his stubbornness refused to allow her pain to overshadow his.

"I feel your pain Miranda, I do, but I really don't think you understand what that bastard did to me. He changed and altered every part of my very existence through torture, DNA reconstruction, and psychological torment. You didn't have what I had on Mindoir, and I am sorry you never knew a parent's love. I had an amazing life with my parents, and it was stolen from me to further along a monster's personal agenda. Ending your father's life would not only bring me closure and peace, it would give me a great deal of personal pleasure," he said coldly, venom dripping from his words. Miranda acknowledged his pain, lowering her gaze as she listened to him.

"I understand how you feel Marcus. I just want to clear the air with you; I am NOTHING like my father. I know it will be tough, but I would like to eventually gain your trust and, eventually, become someone you see as a friend."

"John obviously trusts you, so I trust you Miranda," the big man smirked at her, "Just don't break his heart and we'll be thick as thieves."

Miranda smiled, happy to clear the air and relieve some tension. Their meals finished and the events of the day catching up to him, Marcus stood and made his way to the door.

"Good night you two. Thanks for dinner and the conversation, but it's been almost 48 hours straight and I think it's time for this guy to get to sleep." John stood and met his younger brother at the door.

"Good night, buddy. Make sure you look over the intel we have on the Collector's first thing tomorrow. I want you caught up to speed ASAP."

"No problem, bro. See ya in the mornin'." As Marcus made his way back to his bunk, he couldn't help noticing the superb craftsmanship of the ship. Whoever Cerberus was, they certainly knew how to make a ship; it was stunning in every way. He barely heard the hum of the engines, yet could tell from the view outside they were currently in FTL flight. It was not only a lethal machine, but comfortable as well. The mess hall could easily seat half of the crew at one time, the Med Bay was state of the art (Note: Meet resident doctor in the morning for physical. Facial expression should be photo worthy.), and the main guns were a work of art. He'd have to see if Garrus would show him around the main battery sometime. The armory was easily his favorite area of the ship though. The Normandy had every type of firearm he'd ever heard of and even some that he hadn't. He almost caught himself drooling over their collection, but thankfully Jacob had distracted him enough to get his thoughts under control. As he finally made his way to the shuttle bay, he felt his eyes getting heavier with every step. Sleep was beckoning him closer and closer, and had almost claimed him when he opened the curtain to his bunk. What he found there woke him back up immediately.

"Hey hotshot," Jack said huskily with a sexy smile and a wink. Normally, Marcus would've drawn his weapon and shot, but there were a couple things holding him back. First, he was unarmed, feeling completely at ease on the ship. Second, she was a member of John's team, making her at least somewhat trustworthy. Third, and most importantly, she was very, VERY naked. Her curvaceous, tattooed body had him completely entranced before he'd had a chance to form a single coherent thought. The beautiful, dangerous woman took advantage of his dumbstruck state and sauntered over to him, sexily swaying her hips and accenting all of her very fine features.

"It's not every day I meet someone who can hang with me with biotics, and I've _never _met someone who can not only kick my ass, but two other bad ass chicks at the same time. I gotta be honest, it was fuckin' hot! I wanted to show you that I can certainly appreciate someone with…talents such as yours." Marcus stood there like an idiot, unable to take his eyes off of her. She giggled at his lack of response before sending a small verbal jab his way, trying to get his brain functioning again.

"What's the matter, big fella? Never seen a naked woman before?" She smiled as THAT got an answer out of him, though the answer surprised her.

"No….Not once," he answered honestly before blushing a shade of red the former criminal didn't even know existed. She laughed and flashed him that sexy smile again before closing the distance between them and ran her hands along his chest, feeling the granite muscle beneath the cotton. He towered over her; she didn't quite come to his shoulders and he was easily twice her weight, but right here she was the one in charge. Here, she made the rules.

"Well, you like what you see?"

"Yes," he huskily answered, the unfamiliar feeling of lust beginning to take control over his senses, "You're stunning." His response surprised her yet again, but made her very uncomfortable.

"Easy killer, that shit's reserved for those crappy romance novels and vids. This isn't one of those; this is pure fun, nothing more."

"I'm sorry…I-I honestly don't know what to do here." Her confidence returned full force and put her right back where she wanted to be: in control. She pulled his head down to hers, their lips inches from each other, before saying the words that sent him over the edge.

"Here, let me show you a thing or two hotshot." She closed the distance, bringing his lips to hers. As soon as they made contact, Marcus felt fire rush through his veins. He let instinct take over, and the animal was unleashed. Without warning, he picked the small woman up in his arms and pushed her to the wall, the steel roughly making contact as she felt herself get manhandled. God damn, she loved that feeling. They kissed with a fever, as if the other was a drug they hadn't had in too long. Marcus felt his get shredded off his body, only stopping for a fraction of a second as he thought about one of his few possessions being destroyed. Her skin on his erased that thought instantaneously. He crashed his lips against her again and hastily began removing his pants, Jack holding herself up with her legs. He felt his aching member straining against his briefs and couldn't stop a moan from escaping as it sprung free. Jack was very conscious of it smacking against her ass, making her even more eager to get it inside her. She would have to wait though, as she felt Marcus take her in his hands and slowly lift her up. She was confused at first until she felt her legs come to a rest on his shoulders, then she hastily tried to grab on to something above her, settling on a rail as she urged him on.

Marcus inhaled deep as he gazed at her glistening lips, taking in the aroma of her arousal. He didn't know what had come over him right now, but damn it he liked it! Her scent drove him almost into a frenzy, and he dove into her essence, making her shriek in ecstasy. He listened carefully to her, dissecting each moan to find what gave her the most pleasure. Jack could barely control herself as she ground against his face. There was no way she was his first, he was too damn good at driving her crazy. Before she knew what hit her, she found herself in the throes on a powerful orgasm, one of the strongest she'd had in a long time. Marcus was rewarded for his efforts with a rush of fluid, taking him by surprise but urging him even further. He loved the feeling of this woman quivering in his hands. He looked up at her when she grabbed him by the hair, almost yanking him away.

"Th-that's enough of that, fucker…my turn to make you squirm." Jack used her biotics to push herself free and push him back a step. As she dropped to the floor, she came eye to eye with his throbbing manhood.

"Ho…ly….Shit…"

She figured the big man would be packing, but she hadn't thought the krogan DNA he'd received would affect him that much. She hungrily licked her lips before taking him into her mouth, determined to get back in control of the situation. It didn't take her long. Marcus's inexperience nearly sent him over the edge as soon as she made contact, but he somehow held on. Jack felt his massive hand touch her head and immediately locked up, refusing to let him force her into anything. She was surprised when she felt his rough palm gently stroke her cheek. She looked up and made eye contact, seeing lust in his eyes, but no malice, only contentment. She renewed her attention on him, vigorously working him and reveling in the throb of his rapidly increasing heartbeat. She kept her pace until she heard his breathing become ragged, then almost attacked him until he released with a loud moan. The sound of his ecstasy gave her another mini-orgasm, but she was too focused on catching all of his essence in her mouth. She looked up again at her lover, but his shaky knees forced him to fall back on the mattress in post-orgasmic bliss.

Before Marcus could gather control over himself, he felt the lithe form of Jack pounce on him, giving him a firm, passionate kiss. As their tongues battled for control, he felt her tiny hand pumping him, coaxing him back to full mast. Once she was satisfied, she positioned herself over his refreshed member, then sank herself onto it in one swift motion. Any pleasure he had felt at her earlier attentions was dwarfed to feeling her hot tunnel gave him now. Jack stayed motionless on him, allowing her body to adjust to his size. She had been with many lovers, but none had ever made her feel so…full. Once both of them adjusted to the new sensations they were feeling, Jack slowly began to rock on him, taking almost completely out of her before sinking again. Marcus was in heaven; his body hadn't felt anything but pain physically for as long as he could remember. The pleasure he was feeling now almost overwhelmed his body, making him wonder how he'd survived so long never experiencing this before. As the duo got more accustomed to each other, their pace increased. Faster and faster they rode each other, Marcus's hips rising in time with Jack plunging herself onto him again and again. He felt her body begin to quiver once more when an idea struck him. The second she let her third orgasm take over her senses, he flared his biotics, flooding her insides with a wave of energy. Jack shrieked out in pleasure, completely absorbed in the new, almost electric feeling taking over her body. Her orgasm grew in strength, lasting longer than any she'd ever experienced in the past. She rode him even faster, pumping his entire length in and out of her body like a wild animal. She barely noticed his own pace increase, becoming aware of his own building pressure when he clamped down on her hips with a crushing grip before pumping into one final time with release. His seed felt hot as it coated her insides, sending her own drawn out orgasm past the breaking point. They each cried out, uncaring who heard them, completely wrapped in pleasure.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, the lovers came down from their high, Jack collapsing onto the bigger man's chest. Marcus felt sleep rapidly taking over his senses, his struggle futile. His last waking memory was Jack placing a gentle kiss on his lips as his rapidly deflating member fell out of her.

"Well done hotshot. See ya in the mornin'"


	6. New Toys

**AN: Hello Readers! I apologize for the extended delay, but I flat out STRUGGLED with this chapter, and i still don't even think it's that good. My filler material needs some serious work. Anywho, here is something to keep you interested temporarily. I promise the story will be speeding up soon, i'm just struggling to tie the characters together at this point. Any suggestions and reviews are more than welcome as always.**

Marcus awoke alone and groggy to the buzzing of his omni-tool. Activating the message, he saw that John had summoned the team to the War Room…AN HOUR AGO?! He jumped out of bed, got dressed as fast as he could, and took off at a dead sprint to the elevator. Unfortunately, he was met by John as soon as the doors opened.

"Well….Shit," was all he could say as he made eye contact with his brother, but was surprised when John simply smirked and motioned for him to follow him. Marcus sheepishly joined his brother in the elevator, and John told EDI to take them to the Flight Deck. Once they got moving, John addressed his lateness.

"So…I guess someone was up a bit later than we planned on, huh?" Marcus paled, then blushed a shade of red similar to John's friend Urdnot Wrex. John laughed before continuing.

"Jack made sure every member of the team knew what happened between you two in our meeting. You must've really made an impression on her; she doesn't normally brag about her conquests like that." Well, that boosted his ego a bit. Marcus stayed silent, not making eye contact with his older brother, who simply laughed at his obvious discomfort. Once they reached the bridge, John led his brother to the armory.

"We're landing on Tuchanka today to try and figure out what's going on with Grunt. Ever since you kicked his ass, he's been like a caged beast, wanting to tear everything he can get his hands on to pieces. At first, I thought he was just embarrassed, but the more he explained it, the more I think you awoke something latent in his DNA. I want you primed and ready to go with the best equipment possible, and yours simply doesn't cut it anymore. It was great for when you were on the run and fighting a bunch of useless mercenaries, but Tuchanka is a completely different animal, literally and figuratively. Everything on that hunk of radioactive rock is bigger, faster and stronger than you with one purpose: Killing." Once they got inside the Armory, they were met by Jacob, who burst out laughing when he saw Marcus. Embarrassed yet again, Marcus growled at the biotic, who laughed even harder before raising his hands in defense.

"Easy big fella, just laughin' at the situation. Not everyday someone gets to use the "I was up too late getting laid" excuse to miss a meeting. No harm meant." Marcus backed off a bit, but made a mental note to talk to Jack when they got some alone time, away from curious ears. Turning his attention to assortment of weaponry surrounding them, Marcus quickly found his annoyance dissipating, replaced by a level of giddiness similar to a fat kid at a cake convention. Jacob laughed again, knowing the feeling.

"Pretty awesome isn't it?"

"Dude…you easily have the coolest job here."

"Damn right I do. Now, what type of firepower we thinking here Shep? Normally, I'd say keep it light so he could use his biotics, but from your report on the situation you found Marcus in I'd say he could have a duel role as a heavy hitter as well." John concurred with Jacob's diagnosis, wanting to utilize as many of Marcus's talents as possible.

"Let's take him to the range and see what he feels comfortable using for now. I'm thinking he'll want a lot of the same setup that I carry, as the weight obviously won't be an issue, but I think he'd enjoy a chance to play with some of our more advanced toys. What do you think, bro?"

"A chance to shoot shit with awesome guns and unlimited ammunition? Fuck yea!"

Six hours and almost twenty thousand rounds later, Marcus was satisfied with the arsenal he'd chosen. He'd fallen in love with the N7 Typhoon Assault Rifle, enjoying the stopping power as well as the high magazine capacity, but his favorite new weapon was by far was the M-11 Wraith Shotgun. A prototype upgrade of the more popular M-22 Eviscerator, its quick trigger and easy reload function made it extremely effective in close quarters without sacrificing any stopping power. Bonus, it sounded fucking cool when your target became nothing but an explosion of meaty bits. His pistol was nothing special, just a simple M-6 Carnifex, and the sniper rifle he chose was the powerful M98 Widow, heavy as hell with a powerful punch. All in all, Marcus was beyond satisfied.

As the trio finished in the gun range, the pilot came over the ship speakers.

"Commander, we're coming into the Krogan DMZ. We're about thirty minutes out from Tuchanka. You might wanna go let our bouncing baby boy know he's almost home."

"Thanks Joker, send a message to Wrex and let him know were inbound," John ordered before turning to his brother.

"You ready?"

"Hell yea," Marcus said with a smile, ready to get a taste of some action. This sounded like it was gonna be a fun trip.

The first thing Marcus noticed when they exited the shuttle was the smell. If testosterone could be put to a fragrance, it would be the Tuchanka atmosphere. The air reeked of conquest, war, survival, and rage; his Krogan-enhanced DNA found it intoxicating. He followed Marcus, Garrus, and Grunt into the Main Hall. Marcus practically felt the glares and hostility directed towards his Turian companion, but Garrus's deeds had made him a legend throughout the universe. That combined with his known friendship with Urdnot Wrex would keep him relatively safe, and any other threats were ones he could handle with ease. As they entered the throne room, they were greeted by the sounds of a heated argument. It appeared that Wrex had his hands full with a warlord named Gatatog Uvenk, but the appearance of their party pulled him away from their argument.

"SHEPARD!" the massive krogan bellowed, pushing aside his clan mates to get to them. As John walked up, the former teammates grasped hands in a rough handshake.

"Shepard, my friend. It is good to see you again. You look well for dead; should've known the void couldn't hold you for long."

"Looks like helping me kick Saren and the Geth's ass worked out for you, Wrex. I'm glad we didn't have to kill each other back on Virmire."

"Ha!" the battlemaster barked, "You made the rise of Urdnot possible! Virmire was a turning point for the Krogan, though not everyone was happy about it. Destroying Saren's genophage cure freed us from his manipulation. I used that to spur the clans to unify under Clan Urdnot."

"You abandoned many traditions to get your way," Uvenk grumbled resentfully, "dangerous." Yea, that wasn't a thinly veiled threat at all. Wrex obviously didn't care for the disgruntled thought either, answering with a thunderous headbutt that sent the smaller krogran reeling.

"Speak when spoken to Uvenk! I'll drag your worthless clan to glory whether you like it or not."

"Ah, Wrex you always had such an eloquent way with words," Garrus quipped with a smirk. Wrex chuckled before shaking hands with the Turian sniper.

"Vakarian, always a pleasure. Nice to see your soft Turian shell can handle a few scars, maybe you have some Krogan in you after all."

"Please Wrex, all it took was a half-dead Varren to leave that scratch on you. Mine was from a minigun on an attack chopper. I'd say I'm in the lead at this point."

"HA!" Wrex guffawed, clapping his friend on the shoulder, "you always had a quad on you Garrus."

"Bro…your friends….are freaking awesome…" Marcus whispered in his brother's ear, trying his best to contain his excitement. These two were LEGENDS, fighters that Marcus could only dream of becoming. He'd learned about their exploits when he was on the run, but Marcus had never truly appreciated the stories until he saw them all together. Wrex heard his praise and looked at the large human.

"Not every day a meatbag can look me in the eye. What's your name boy?"

"Marcus Shepard."

"Ahh, another warrior of your name, eh Shepard? I wonder if he's-" Wrex stopped mid-sentence, looking at the young man strangely. He advanced and smelled the human before stepping back in confusion.

"You…you smell…wrong. Not entirely human," another sniff, this one deep, as if trying to break down his existence before growling deep from his chest, "You smell Krogan, whelp. What the hell are you?"

Marcus's eyes narrowed, his blood beginning to boil. "A monster," he answered flatly, meeting Wrex's stare unflinchingly. Wrex pondered his answer before chuckling and breaking into a wide grin.

"Ain't we all, boy. Ain't we all." The battlemaster walked back to his throne and sat before addressing them again, "So, Shepard, what brings you to my home?"

John visibly relaxed as he stepped forward; apparently, he hadn't been too sure how the exchange between his brother and his Krogan friend would turn out.

"I've got a Krogan on my team who seems to be going through some sort of sickness, I was wondering if you and your clan could give us some answers." Wrex motioned for Grunt to step forward and smelled the air around the tank-bred.

"Your whelp isn't sick, he's growing up! All young krogan, male and female, must go through a rite of passage before they are accepted into any clan. Have him speak to our shaman, and we shall make preparations."

"NO! Absolutely not! You go too far Wrex!" Uvenk roared before storming past the group. Wrex growled but let it slide, this time.

"Speak to the shaman Shepard, he will make sure everything is prepared. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a race to unite."

"Always a pleasure Wrex, I'll stop by again before we leave."

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" Marcus bellowed as they made their way back towards the throne room. Grunt heartily agreed, slapping Marcus on the shoulder, which Marcus met with a thunderous headbutt. The two went back and forth like kids on Christmas for a few minutes while John and Garrus just shook their heads; boys will be boys. When they got back to the throne room, Wrex stood to greet them with a savage grin and a new look of respect at the two whelps.

"That was a hell of a show Shepard! No one's killed a Thresher Maw since me, and my Rite was almost a millennium ago," the massive krogan beckoned Grunt forward, and the tank-bred took a knee at his feet, "Grunt, you have proven, without a shown without a shadow of a doubt, what it means to be Krogan. You have gained the right to mate with the females and continue carrying on a line of Krogan dominance. I would like to offer you a position in Clan Urdnot as well; Urdnot accepts nothing but the best and you are among the elite."

"I accept," Grunt barked.

"Good, should you survive this madness with Shepard and return to Tuchanka, Urdnot will be waiting with open arms and Ryncol flowing." Wrex finished with Grunt and looked at Marcus. Pondering for a moment, as if calculating his next move, Wrex motioned for the young human, who looked to his brother. John didn't know what would happen, but he trusted Wrex with his life and motioned his brother forward. Marcus knelt next to Grunt and Wrex addressed him, "Marcus Shepard, you have shown, like your War-Brother Urdnot Grunt, the Krogan blood runs thick in your veins. You may not be full Krogan, boy, but you understand survival more than most of the wretches on this forsaken rock. I extend the same offer to you; should you survive this mission of Shepard's, there will always be a home on Tuchanka for you. You may not be able to become a full clan fighter, but you will always carry a position of respect among the Krogan," Wrex ended his statement with a solid headbutt, which were beginning to give the massive biotic a headache, and a smile, "You truly are kin of Shepard."


End file.
